


who names their guild "the guild"??

by callingCujo



Category: Log Horizon, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Crossover, MMORPGs, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:05:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callingCujo/pseuds/callingCujo
Summary: Nobody knows how it happened. One second they were in their rooms, and the next they weren't.It's probably a good thing The Guild is good at improvising.(OR: A crossover between Bungou Stray Dogs and Log Horizon, centering around Mark Twain/The Guild. You don't need to know Log Horizon to understand the story!)





	1. in one second, a change

**Author's Note:**

> Before the story starts, to whoever reads fic notes, I want to say a couple of things!  
> First: Thank you all for enjoying the stories I've posted thus far. I'm not the best with multi-chapter stories as you all probably know, so if you like this first chapter then please leave kudos or comments! Those keep me motivated to continue. I'm blown away by how much attention some of my fics have received.  
> Second: I've recently set up a tumblr as a place to store my fics! If you like what I do, consider following me at cujowrites! My ko-fi can also be found on that page, if you like my works enough to pay me, haha. Thank you all for reading!

Just a second ago, Samuel was sitting in his spinny chair, waiting for a video to upload on his computer with Elder Tale running on his other monitor. Now, he’s standing in the middle of a bright, grassy area, having to blink to get used to the sudden light.

There’s not going to be a flashback explaining just what happened--he’s not going to suddenly recount pressing some button or feeling a sudden shock-- because there wasn’t anything that occurred in between those two instants at all. Samuel was there, and now he’s here. This is about when panic starts to set in.

“Oh my God..” he mumbles to himself, looking around. There are other people here, too, who all look similarly puzzled, so clearly it’s not just him who was put in this situation.

He reaches out his hand, flexes his fingers a few times. In front of him, a menu screen suddenly pops up. Startled, he jumps back.

Then he recognizes it. This is the menu in Elder Tale. He takes note of its contents: Options, Friends, an unfortunately greyed-out “Log Out” button.. And, in the top left corner, a mini-profile.

 

**Mark Twain**

**Adventurer**

**Bard-Idol LV. 90**

 

Twain--it feels a little more natural to refer to himself by that, if only because of his YouTube videos and hearing it from his guildmates--isn’t sure why, but his expression shifts to a smile. Maybe it’s the promise of adventure. Maybe it’s that he’s been brought into his favorite game and he doesn’t have to worry about real-world responsibilities anymore. Either way, he wants to explore everything this world has to offer--

A button with a phone icon pops up in the middle of his menu, accompanied by a ringing in his head.

_ Incoming call from Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald. _

Unsure of how to answer, he reaches forward to try and press the button. To his surprise, that actually works. He’ll have to play around a little with the menu. 

“Fitzgerald? Shit, you’re here too?”

_“So it would seem,”_ comes the reply, with a slight echo in his head. This definitely feels a lot weirder than talking through a headset. As opposed to Fitzgerald’s voice coming through the speakers on his ears, he’s literally speaking directly into Twain’s mind. Freaky.

“I shoulda known you wouldn’t log off right after that raid, fuckin’ loser!” Twain replies, grinning. It’s nice to know he’s not alone here. Actually, wait, he should check his friends list! Later, though, when Fitzgerald hangs up. “What’s the plan, guild master? We gonna group up and kick ass?”

Fitzgerald’s sigh in his head makes him laugh. _“If that’s how you want to put it, yes. Just come to our headquarters.”_

“Oooh, so official sounding. Headquarters!”

_ “Twain.” _

“Alright, alright, I’m comin’. Seeya!” He hangs up before Fitzgerald can get another word in. It’s not like he doesn’t want to talk--Fitzgerald and Twain are close friends, after all--but he knows very well it’s probably his fault that the guild leader logged on today in the first place.

Twain had practically begged a lot of guild members to come online for a raid, after all. He’d wanted one last big raid before the American launch of the Homesteading the Noosphere expansion changed the game forever. Well, now he figures it’s not like he’ll ever get to play that expansion anyway, but there’s no way he could have predicted something like this.

He’ll have to apologize to the people that are online when he gets there. Or whenever things settle down. But there’s no use worrying about that now; he's got shit to do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few important things to know about this story:  
> Classes: I won't be going too deep into explaining them unless someone in the comments asks me to, but the main classes on the North America server in Elder Tale are Guardian, Pirate, Monk, Cleric, Druid, Medicine Man, Assassin, Swashbuckler, Bard, Sorcerer, Summoner, and enchanter.  
> There will be eight of the major guild members appearing as major characters in this fic, as well as some select characters from other fandoms. Here are the classes of the guild members.  
> Twain: Bard  
> Fitzgerald: Swashbuckler  
> Margaret: Druid  
> Alcott: Enchanter  
> Hawthorne: Monk  
> Lucy: Summoner  
> Steinbeck: Sorcerer  
> Poe: Medicine Man  
> Not featured in this story are Melville and Lovecraft. Lovecraft will actually appear later on as a 'person of the land'--a former NPC. Melville's story may or may not be included, but the gist is he used to play when the open beta first came out but no longer plays. He used to run The Guild and was the one who named it. This story will also not feature any Log Horizon characters.  
> I won't go too in-depth about Twain's specific story, but I have been developing it for a while. He was a YouTuber who uploaded mostly Elder Tale content and was relatively famous in the gaming community. This is important because the story will later feature people recognizing him, and I want you all to know why that is so it doesn't look like a last-minute addition.  
> Another fun little easter egg is the name Samuel. That was IRL Twain's real name. ^^  
> Sorry for filling the notes up so much! Don't worry, I do plan to make the next chapters longer than this!


	2. words to be said / people not to be trusted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to remind everyone again that they can find me on tumblr at cujowrites and my ko-fi can be found on the page! if you like this chapter, comments or kudos are always appreciated! <3

It turns out that there are at least 400 guild members still online and present at their ever-growing headquarters, and eight who are level 90, including Twain and Fitzgerald. There are a lot more high leveled players in the guild, but it seems like a lot of them hadn’t been logged in during whatever happened. It’s not like Twain is bitter about that, but Fitzgerald sure is.

He’s positioned at Fitzgerald’s right, at the rectangular table in their makeshift meeting room. Steinbeck is to Twain’s own right--they’d talked a little when he had first got here, but now Steinbeck seems to be keeping to himself. Also at the table are Margaret Mitchell and Nathaniel Hawthorne, seated right across from him and Fitzgerald respectively. There’s Alcott at Fitzgerald’s left, and then there’s Lucy next to her. Poe sits several seats away at the end of the table, probably brooding.

They’re all that’s left of the Guild’s highest level players. Twain sort of wishes Melville were here.

“Alright, everyone,” says Fitzgerald. Twain doesn’t look towards him, instead observing everyone else. Most everyone has their eyes on him save for Poe and Alcott, who are probably just too shy, knowing them. “Seeing as we’ve found ourselves in quite a situation, you’re all being promoted. Congratulations, you’re a part of The Guild’s higher command, as of right now.”

Margaret is the first to stand up, a scowl on her face. Twain doesn’t really like the look of this.

“And how’s a spot in the higher command meant to help us get back, Fitzgerald? I won’t have you tellin’ me we’ll all be safe back in our rooms come tomorrow since you decided there’ll be more people makin’ decisions.” She does make a good point, of course, but Twain isn’t really interested in it. He does trust Fitzgerald, after all. If their guild leader thinks it’ll be a good decision, he’s probably gone over it with Alcott first. 

He takes a peek around Fitzgerald at said strategist. She doesn’t look very surprised. This was definitely her idea!

“I never said it would fix the situation,” Fitzgerald defends, frowning back at her. “For as long as we’re here, we might as well make ourselves at home. If a way out presents itself to us, we’ll take it, but assuming there won’t be one, I’ve determined that this is the best course of action.”

“But why sit there and wait for somethin’ to show up in front of our faces when we should be chasin’ a way home?! Heavens, FItzgerald, you can’t possibly think we’ll all be okay with staying here!”

“You’ll have to be, for the time being. What other options are there?”

Margaret sputters, and Twain’s tempted to giggle a little. Sure, he feels bad that she’s being shot down so easily, but it’s not like she had a very strong argument to begin with.

“I think it’s a great idea, guild leader!” he says, leaning back in his chair so it tilts up onto its hind legs. “Think about it. We’re not gonna benefit from bein’ disorganized, right? That’s what you an’ Miss Alcott were goin’ for? It’s better if there’s more people makin’ choices rather than just Fitzgerald; don’t tell me you don’t want a say in all this!”

Beside him, Steinbeck snorts.

“It’s not like I would agree with Fitzgerald on anything, and he knows it.” 

“That’s the reason for having several people, Steinbeck,” Hawthorne replies flatly, pushing up his glasses. “Though, less people in this room agree with you than those who don’t agree. Why choose this combination of people?”

“You’ll have to ask Miss Alcott about that if you want to know.” Fitzgerald, to his credit, keeps a calm composure. Twain can’t even detect any passive aggression. Man, their guild leader is super cool. “Should it matter whether or not we see eye to eye? In the end, I’m sure we all have the best interests of The Guild in mind.”

“We’ve all played together a bunch, too! It’s not like we barely know eachother!” Twain can’t help but interject, flashing everyone who glares at him a bright smile. “Hey, if this was the real world, I’d have tons of evidence. Shame all my footage ain’t here with me, that woulda been real helpful.”

He laughs. Steinbeck nudges him in the side, making him stop to rub his side and glare at Steinbeck for being a piece of shit.

“You all keep saying that we’ll go back to the real world.” For the first time during this meeting, Lucy speaks up. “You’re talking about it like everyone wants to go back. Can’t you consider that some people might want to stay here?!”

The room goes quiet. Not that it wasn’t already pretty quiet, but this silence is more uncomfortable than what it had previously been. Only some of the people in the room know why Lucy’s saying what she is. Twain is included in that; he and Lucy are good friends, and he knows more than he probably should about her home life from times she’d come to him for help.

He feels bad, all of a sudden, for contributing to placating Margaret with assurances that they’d go back eventually. Of course there are people who don’t want to go back.

Like himself. He doesn’t want to go back, either.

“U- Um..” Poe’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the silence like a knife through butter. “Not that I want to argue this point, I’d r- really rather not, but I..”

Twain waits with bated breath, and imagines everyone else doing the same even though half of them (Margaret) probably don’t care. Poe audibly gulps, then continues, “I also.. would rather consider something else before we, ah.. immediately try to.. return to our world.”

Poe’s confession shocks Twain for all of two seconds, but in all honesty, he probably should have seen that coming. Their secondary strategist is just as socially anxious as their primary one--he’d probably find it easier to socialise here. Margaret stands up, though, anger written all over her expression, and yells, “Some of us have people we care about and would like to return to! Haven’t you thought about that?”

Twain would really love to give his two cents on the matter--he’s really been sitting here in the background like a passive idiot--but Margaret storms off, not giving anyone the opportunity to reply. On the other side of the table, Lucy seems to have become very interested in its marble surface.

“Well,” Twain starts, resting his head in one hand, “it’s not like I really wanna go back either. Could be fun, staying here. I mean, hell, what am I losing? Subscribers? YouTube doesn’t even exist here.”

“Having you here will be advantageous, at least,” Fitzgerald mumbles under his breath. Twain laughs in response to that. Across the table, Hawthorne gives an annoyed sigh.

* * *

“So, things aren’t gonna be easy,” Steinbeck remarks, hours after the meeting has ended. Twain glances towards him, watches as the profile screen he’s still not used to pops up to the left of Steinbeck’s face.

 

**John Steinbeck**

**Adventurer**

**Sorcerer-Farmer LV. 90**

 

It’s just him and Twain in one of the ruins of Big Apple--the North America server’s name of the great city where New York would have been in the real world--and Twain’s not really sure where Steinbeck is coming from when he says it won’t be easy.

“We just gotta ride it out, right? See where things go. It’ll be fun!” His voice echoes through the empty room. Distantly, he wonders if he has enough Guild money to buy this building--it  _ is _ purchasable, after all. “I mean, Elder Tale was pretty much my life anyway.”

Steinbeck shifts. The look on his face is somewhere between a smile and a frown, and Twain can’t tell what he must be feeling right now. He guesses it’s nothing good. “We aren’t all like that, Mark. We couldn’t all devote all our time to games. I have a family I want to get back to.”

Ah, shit. Right.

Maybe it was a little insensitive to be so blunt about it. “..Sorry, Steinbeck.”

“It’s.. It’s fine. I get you’re excited. To be honest, there are a lot of worse situations we could be stuck in.”

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t bring up a sore spot! Honest, I didn’t mean to remind you ‘a everything you’re leavin’ behind. Shit, I really am sorry.” Twain runs a hand through his hair, suddenly filled with a nervous energy. “I mean, I can’t say that’s changed my feelings. But I’m sorry there’s things you miss.”

“Yeah.” The single word is quiet. Twain is about to make a joke to lighten things up when Steinbeck’s expression changes from that pained look to something that makes him a little nervous to see on someone who’s usually so friendly. “Mark, do you trust Fitzgerald?”

He’s caught off guard by the question.

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you think he deserves that?”

“Where’s this coming from? I know you don’t like him, but didn’t he literally just give us all more power in decision-making?”

Steinbeck sighs, turning over a pebble in his hands. “That clearly wasn’t his idea, you know. He always leaves the decisions up to Alcott.” Twain wants to argue that if Fitzgerald didn’t agree with the idea he wouldn’t have implanted it so quickly, but Steinbeck beats him to speaking. “He’s just the wrong kind of person, Mark. He might seem nice to you, but he’s never told any of us anything about his life. It’s one thing to play video games with someone you barely know, but to be here face to face.. I don’t know. He seems like the kind of person that’ll try and use others to his advantage in this kind of situation. You know what I mean?”

Twain nods, but he’s not even listening. The truth is, he knows more than Steinbeck thinks. 

Last year, he’d met Fitzgerald and Alcott in person. The three of them had all been in Los Angeles for three separate reasons and they’d scheduled a meetup. He’s probably talked to Fitzgerald more than anyone after that event--and him and Alcott are sort of a package deal. So he knows, really, a lot about the two of them. 

But it’s hard to change someone’s mind once they’ve made it up.

“Hey, even if you don’t like him, it’s gotta be better than bein’ a solo player!” Twain tries, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Steinbeck laughs. “Man, imagine that. Actually, holy fuck, we’re rich people now! Steinbeck, we have money! Oh my god, I’ve never had money before. I’m gonna spend absolutely fuckin’ everything I have.”

“You’re terrible.”

“You know it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as i did in the last chapter, let me explain you some SHIT!  
> "Big Apple" as an in-game city exists in log horizon canon, and it DOES specifically say the city is what would be modern day new york. the game, elder tale, uses what's called the "half-gaia project" for its maps--essentially, the maps in the game are the same as what a real world map might look like, except the actual land masses are half the side. big apple is the only Great City we know of on the north america server, and i chose this location for two reasons!  
> since we don't have a canon location for the Guild's headquarters in america, i assumed new york city; it's where the great gatsby takes place. second of all, there's an event that takes place in big apple during the timeline of log horizon that i'd like the guild to have a hand in. wink wink. it'll be in the next chapter.
> 
> now i want to tell you briefly about the ruins i mention, the ones twain and steinbeck are in after the meeting. elder tale takes place millions of years after what was presumably an apocalypse on earth; life was brought back to the planet by beings with magic. the ruins mentioned would be real existing buildings that were in new york! i imagine they're where NYC would have been, so the ruins are all in the style of buildings there.  
> and yes, ruins are purchasable zones! this is an important plot point in log horizon and may or may not be an important plot point later in the fic.
> 
> if you have any questions about anything, just leave a comment. i'm more than happy to answer!


	3. the calm / taste the beginnings of a new age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter IS a little bit shorter than the last one, but it's actually just a setup for the coming arc. this is also the last chapter we're seeing from twain's perspective!  
> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated.

It’s only a few days later that something happens. Well, it’s probably been less than a few days, but word isn’t that quick to spread about it. People have begun to talk, to gossip, about a food stand set up just outside where Central Park would have been.

The problem with this world, as Twain and the others in The Guild have found out, is that the food their menu prepares for them is bland and tasteless. The drinks all taste like water. There are naturally growing things--apples, oranges, and the like--that still have their taste, but it really is a bummer to look at a delicious pizza only for it to taste like unsalted Ritz crackers.

The food stand, if it’s legitimate, is a pretty big deal because people have been saying it sells flavorful food (“But it’s so expensive,” he’s overheard someone complain, “they should just tell us how they made it.”) instead of the same bland dog shit everyone’s had to eat day by day.

Twain hasn’t been to the stand, of course, but there are just so many people talking. Why would that many people lie about something so big? If this is real, Fitzgerald would probably want to know about it. So that had been his first stop this morning!

“It seems like something worth investigating, old sport,” is what the guild leader had said in response to Twain barging in and practically yelling everything he knows about the situation. “If it’s true, there’s a lot we could stand to gain from knowing the secret behind food that tastes real.”

And Twain is proud of himself, of course, even though it’s been a few minutes since that conversation ended. If he’s honest, he lives for the positive interactions with the leader of The Guild; sure, they’re on good terms, but Fitzgerald is far too honest when he’s expressing his pleasure or displeasure at his guild members’ actions.

Thing is, nothing as simple as a status screen could describe Fitzgerald, even though it gives Twain a pretty good idea about the way most people are. Steinbeck, for example--he can tell a lot based on that Sorcerer-Farmer combination. He wants to play an active role, but he’s a little bit of a coward about it. He’d rather talk big than act big, when it comes down to it. 

Fitzgerald is a different story, though; He’s a Swashbuckler-Courtesan, but he’s not the gentleman that combination of class and subclass had led Twain to believe. If he didn’t know any better, he might call their guild leader crazy. Hell, he’ll call Fitzgerald crazy while knowing better.

There’s altogether too much time to think and not enough time to chatter when he’s on his way to the stand; he should have asked Steinbeck to come with him. Or Lucy, even; she’s been awful quiet these past few days--she’s probably still afraid they’ll have to go back, so he makes a note to invite her out to do something to take her mind off that idea.

..Though, looking around him, it’s not like there’s really much to do. All the fuss is centered around one place, supposedly, and he already knows what that is. Most people are sitting on the streets--Twain likes to imagine they’re wallowing in pity, or something, because there’s high chances they actually are.

Sure, killing monsters around the city borders is a good way to pass the time, but he’s gotta admit it’s a little boring now that everyone has figured out how to use the game’s combat system in a real life situation. Even though, being a Bard, he doesn’t have a particularly easy time with the monsters, he’s started to find it a little monotonous. That’s probably why the food stand is so exciting to everyone--it’s something new.

The closer he gets, the more he can hear and see. And smell, too; people walk by carrying half eaten burgers and hot dogs and they smell delicious, as opposed to smelling like nothing. Then, finally, he can see the stand itself in the distance--although it more closely resembles a food truck than a stand. There’s a line that must be a mile long, and Twain’s heart sinks to the ground. The things he fucking does for the Guild are unbelievable.

 

About two and a half hours later, he’s leaving the stand with a hot dog and a very large bucket of fries with a very generous amount of ketchup in a container. These are for the other guildies to have when he gets back; he wouldn’t want to make them wait in that hellish line for food, after all.

The person who said it was expensive really hadn’t been lying. It’s not really a problem for Twain, who has access to the Guild’s funds and a hefty sum of money in the bank, but he can honestly see how it might be a problem for players who don’t have as much money saved. It’s honestly tempting not to blow everything on good items, and there’s no way anyone could have saved up in advance for this.

But it really is good! Or maybe that’s just the fact that he hasn’t tasted real food in days talking. It’s worth the money for him, but it might not be worth it for others. There are a lot of people who would kill to get their hands on real food. Hell, Twain was really pushing the limit back there with that goddamn line. 

He just can’t help but be worried. People are excited now, sure, but how long is it gonna be before more people start complaining about the price? Before people start demanding to know the secret to making real food?

He sighs. There’s really nothing he can do other than bring it up with Fitzgerald, then wait and see what happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back again with some more end notes and helpful stuff to know!  
> as i said in the fic itself, the food created by the preparation menu is flavourless. HOWEVER, there is a way to make flavorful food. you'll know what it is already if you've watched log horizon, but if you haven't then i guess you'll have to find out uwu!  
> secondly, for those of you who don't watch log horizon, it's established that dying permanently is impossible in this world. this has been figured out by the time chapter 3 takes place, but it wasn't super relevant to the fic.  
> finally, this is really how the discovery of real food preparation went down on the north american server in canon! it gets much messier.


End file.
